


Heavy

by kuzibah



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:11:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuzibah/pseuds/kuzibah
Summary: Some of George’s thoughts about his two housemates.





	Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009, after the first series.

George had never thought of himself as a physically affectionate person. He wasn’t the type to pat someone’s arm or shoulder, certainly not the type to give hugs at every opportunity, although he knew a number of people like that at University. Art students, mainly. It wasn’t that he disliked physical contact. He certainly didn’t flinch away from people, but he was more reserved than that. Hugs and caresses were special things for special times, for special people. Like Julia. 

When the event occurred that neatly divided his life into “before” and “after,” he’d had to give up a lot. Everything. 

But he hadn’t expected that loss. He’d barely noticed the casual touches from friends and family until they were gone, replaced by… nothing. Alone, so completely alone, the lack of contact seemed to make all the bad things worse. Unkind words cut through to the bone, the succession of anonymous jobs were the tortures of hell, and the loneliness at night was the eternal solitude of the grave. 

That miserable little room above the café, damp and moldy and smelling of dirty dishwater, and he’d lain in that ancient cot, stroking the backs of his own hands in a futile effort to soothe himself to sleep. When those vampires had attacked him, and for one endless moment he thought he’d soon be dead, he remembered thinking that at least they’d cared enough to kill him with their bare hands. 

Then… salvation. Mitchell coming to his rescue, against all probability. Pity, yes, but kindness, too. And George had followed after him like the beaten dog he was. 

Mitchell was very tactile, not even conscious of it. He put his hands on George’s skin to see where he was injured when he picked him up the morning after the full moon, touched fingers when he handed him something to drink. He laid one hand against George’s arm or shoulder to let him know he was behind him. And George was grateful, pathetically grateful for every touch. 

Then there was Annie. She seemed to crave closeness, beg silently for Mitchell or George to put their arms around her and console her. There was something about her that just made George want to gather her in and reassure her, even though he couldn’t touch her, not really. 

Oh, there was something there. A change in air pressure, a coldness, almost, but George really couldn’t describe it as a body. Still, it was nice to lean against her, or cuddle her, like a child. It was comfortable, and comforting. 

Mitchell, though, he had substance. He filled his space. Where Annie was fog and smoke and ether, Mitchell was earth and stone. The oak to Annie’s reed. And that was comforting, too. 

Where Annie’s personality was warm, her physical manifestation was anything but. Even when she was barely there, she was cool, and whenever she expressed emotion, even happiness, she seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. George knew she couldn’t help it, would be embarrassed if she knew, but he just had to live with the fact that she’d never be warmed by his touch.

Mitchell, oddly, seemed to have no temperature at all. Rather, he assumed the temperature of his surroundings. In the house, he was room temperature. Outside, in the cold, he chilled like a bottle left in the fridge. And in an overheated nightclub, he grew warm, flushed with an illusion of life.

And sometimes, that was nice. Mitchell’s hand, cool but not cold, like a fresh pillowcase on a humid summer night. 

George longed for normal, for “human,” whatever that was. But what he had, what life had seen fit to give him, that could be good, too.


End file.
